Loose Ends (34 page)

The striker hopped in the van and drove, while Thumper sat in the passenger seat. During the trip, Jack heard the striker say, “This has got to be a first, Thumper. Never seen anyone smack ya in the face before, let alone a pig.”

Thumper replied, “Damien said he didn't want any other pigs getting excited. Told me I couldn't hit him in the face and to try not to break any bones. It's hard to fight when you're only playin' with someone like that.”

Jack groaned.

When they pulled up to his apartment, Two-Forty Gordy came to the van with Jack's apartment keys and Thumper tossed them back to Jack. A few minutes later, Jack entered his apartment.

He found Danny wrapped in duct tape and lying face down in the bathtub. It took him a few minutes to take the tape off.

“Christ! Am I glad to see you,” said Danny, blinking and wiping his eyes as he stepped out of the bathtub.

“Likewise,” said Jack.

“What took you so long? I've been lying in this tub for hours!”

“I was detained.”

“Detained? You're filthy! You look like you crawled out of a grave!”

“Close guess. I had the crap beat out of me by a guy who could have won with both hands tied behind his back.”

“What happened? How come we're alive?”

“Grab the medicine. I'm too sore to reach the cupboard. I'll have mine on ice. We'll talk in the living room.”

Danny poured drinks while telling Jack how he was grabbed and tied up like a Christmas turkey.

“Why did they dump you in the tub? Why not leave you on the rug?”

“Maybe they wanted me to think that they were going to drown me. When they dumped me in the tub, that's what I was afraid was going to happen.”

“Did they run any water, just to scare you?”

“They didn't need to. I was already scared shitless. How did they grab you?”

Jack explained how he was kidnapped and brought to see Damien. He explained that Damien was making the point that he wasn't involved in the bomb incident and that he could have killed them tonight had he wished.

Then he said, “After I had the crap beat out of me, Damien told me that he thinks he knows who the rat is in their club.”

Whiskey Jake and Sparks sat in the back of a van parked a block from Jack's apartment. Sparks turned the volume up on the speaker and said, “Here it is!”

They listened as Danny's voice came over the speaker.

“Damien knows who our friend is?” he said.

“I'm not so sure,” said Jack. “If he really knew who it was, why let me know?”

“I don't know, but maybe we should warn him.”

Sparks swore and said, “Come on, pigs! Give us a name!”

Whiskey Jake put his finger to his lips and Sparks became silent.

“He doesn't need warning,” said Jack. “He knows the heat is on.”

“So what do we do now?”

“At least we know that The Suit isn't with the City narcs,” said Jack.

“Yeah, I've been thinking about that. CC said she would keep this on a need-to-know basis. She couldn't have told too many people.”

“I've been thinking the same thing. We shouldn't forget Department of Justice, either.”

Danny thought for a moment, then said, “There can't be that many guys who knew. If we get pictures of all the possibilities, maybe Marcie could point him out to us.”

“Possibly. Either way, I figure we'll find out who this bastard is before the week is over!”

Sparks turned and looked at Whiskey Jake. “Who is this Marcie? Think we should let Damien know?”

“Fuckin' right!”

Assistant Commissioner Isaac accepted the call from Wigmore, who had heard the news about two members of Satans Wrath being blown up. He sounded more deranged than before when Isaac mentioned that Taggart had submitted a report saying that an informant indicated that it was the result of internal strife within the club.

Wigmore said he had been building a file on Taggart and asked Isaac to look in his desk drawer. He said the documentation would prove that another one of Taggart's so-called informants, Edward Trimble, had been dead for years.

Isaac felt that Wigmore was psychotic, but that didn't mean there weren't any fibres of truth to his allegations. He spoke with Inspector Burg, who was filling in as a temporary replacement for Wigmore. Inspector Burg rifled through the desk and found a folder marked “Project Hotshot” and handed it to Isaac. Edward Trimble had been dead for over two years.

Late that afternoon, Inspector Burg examined the contents of a computer disc that he found in Wigmore's desk. He called Isaac, who took one glimpse, then called GIS. A search warrant would be obtained immediately.

Early in the afternoon of the next day, Jack called Natasha to make arrangements to pick her up. Liz was holding a surprise dinner party for Marcie for receiving an excellent report card. As he hung up, his cellphone rang.

Sparks, sitting near the apartment in his van, nudged Whiskey Jake and said, “Piggy's got another call. It's on his fuckin' cell so we'll only get his half of the conversation.”

Louie was quick and to the point. “I've got some news. Are you and Danny sitting down?”

“Danny went home to pick up his mail,” replied Jack. “He'll be back in an hour.”

“You missed an interesting event last night. I just found out myself.”

“I'm so damn sore I just about need a wheelchair to move around in. Mental note: never fight with a guy named Thumper.”

Sparks smiled and gave Whiskey Jake the thumbs-up sign.

“I had planned on coming in tomorrow,” continued Jack. “What's up?”

“I just talked with Isaac. We may have found the leak!”

“You think you know who The Suit is? Fantastic! Who?”

“Wigmore!”

“What?” Jack felt dumfounded. “Why? Why would he do that?”

“They found something in his desk. He's a goddamned pervert. Into kiddie porn. They seized a computer out of his apartment last night. It was loaded with the shit. Explains why he wanted your ass so bad.”

“Explains the bomb at the mall. He talked the bikers into doing his dirty work for him!”

“You working on that porn file scared him.”

“Find anything with bestiality?”

“I don't know yet. They're still downloading his computer.”

“It makes sense,” said Jack. “He was certainly in a position to know everything.”

“They didn't find a George Bush mask in his apartment and he doesn't own a shepherd, but the bikers could be holding that for him.”

“Is he in jail?”

“Not yet. They're assigning a special prosecutor to review everything. You know the system. It'll take months.”

“Damn it! What if he skips out? Satans Wrath could send him anywhere in the world!”

“Why would they bother? Child pornography is all we can prove. We'll be lucky if he gets a hefty fine.”

“I don't care about proof! As long as there's enough proof for me!”

Louie didn't respond. His silence was more powerful.

Jack felt like a fool.
Unprofessional.
“I was about to pick up Natasha and go to the farm,” he said, changing the subject. “I want a photo of him to show Marcie. See what she says.”

“She didn't see his face,” Louie said thoughtfully, “but Wigmore has a mole on his neck.”

“Exactly. She was still terrified when she described him to us. Easy to forget stuff. It wouldn't hurt for her
to take a look. Might twig a memory. Even to see if it's his build or hairstyle.”

“I'll get you one from Staffing. We should talk about all this. Let's meet for a quick coffee and I'll give you a picture.”

“I need to be positive. If she can't identify the picture, how the hell do we find out?”

“They're still downloading his computer.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't expect they'll find evidence, unless he ordered the mask online. Meet you at Starbucks?”

“Be there in forty minutes.”

Jack met Louie, then picked up Natasha later. He glanced in his rear-view mirror. He'd had a feeling that a green van and maybe a car had been following him when they left her apartment, but he hadn't seen them in the last hour.

He drove down the side road toward the farm and crested a small hill and stopped. Anyone following wouldn't know he had stopped until they were practically upon him.

“Mind if I ask what you're doing?”

Jack glanced at Natasha and said, “I'm probably a little paranoid. Just making sure that I'm not being followed.”

“You told me that you thought it was coincidence that those bikers blew themselves up. A drug war. With the way you're behaving, I get the feeling that there's more to it than that.”

“There probably isn't. I'm just the cautious type.”

“Is that why Danny sent Susan and Tiffany to Calgary?”

“As I said, it doesn't hurt to be cautious.”

“Is that why you didn't come over and see me last night?”

“I felt that I should stay with Danny. We needed to talk.”

“And today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. I was feeling … amorous when you picked me up. You treated me like I had leprosy. You really hurt my feelings, until I realized that you're moving like someone who is hurt. I take it you don't want me to see any bruises?”

Jack sighed. “Okay. You're right. I was in a scrap late Sunday night. Work related. I came in second. Yes, I am feeling a little sore.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I'm feeling a little tense, okay? I'm really close to knowing who was responsible for killing Maggie and Ben Junior. Sometimes my work is secret. I try to keep things on a need-to-know basis. It's as simple as that.”

Natasha didn't respond, but Jack could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't happy.

He put the car in gear, and they remained silent for the rest of the drive.

Marcie was delighted that everyone congratulated her on her good grades. Later, Jack found a moment to take her aside and show her Wigmore's picture. Marcie didn't think it was him. Jack told her not to worry about it. He would soon find out for sure.

Jack thought that Natasha had warmed up to him by the time they were leaving. Ben, Liz, and Marcie came out on the back porch to say goodbye.

Marcie gave Jack a hug, then said, “I'm sorry that I couldn't say the picture you showed me tonight was the guy who hurt me in the cabin.”

“It's okay. I'll find out.”

Natasha gave Jack a hard look but kept silent until they were driving home. “Marcie is linked to the guy who ordered the bikers to kill Maggie and Ben Junior, isn't she?” she asked.

Jack nodded.

“So you're using her to find out who it is.”

“Sort of, but —”

“She's just a kid! How could you do that to her? Hasn't she been through enough?”

Jack sighed, then said, “I know she's just a kid. But I still have to identify the guy.”

Natasha made no attempt to keep the anger out of her voice. “So you're keeping her on ice at your sister's until you need her to help you!”

“No! That's not why! But if she can help, then I'm still going —”

“You think she might be in danger now! That's why you were checking to see if we were being followed tonight!”

“I'm only being cautious. I told you….”

“Drive me home, Jack. I really don't want to talk with you. Ever.”

It was midnight when Jack arrived back at his apartment. He told Danny that Natasha had broken up with him. Danny was sympathetic.

Two hours later, the bottle of Jose Cuervo was three-quarters empty. Jack told Danny to pull out the sofa and go to bed. Whiskey Jake and Sparks heard a bedroom door close, and a few minutes later Sparks turned the speaker down to cut out the sound of Danny's snoring.

Jack lay in bed as he thought about Natasha. Love, anger, sorrow, and self-doubt ravaged his brain until the
pain became physical and gripped his stomach and chest like a vise.

An hour later his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a bottle fall and roll across his coffee table. He got to his feet and padded barefoot into the living room. Danny was snoring on the sofa with one foot dangling beside the coffee table. The bottle of tequila was emptying the last of its contents on his rug. He picked up the bottle and was about to return to his bedroom when he stepped on something. He checked the bottom of his foot and found a small shiny screw. It looked like it came from his stereo.

Lance hung up the phone and went back to eating his breakfast. He tried to figure out what Jack was up to. Who in the club was Rolly's favourite friend, besides Wizard? That was easy. Stallion and Rolly were like brothers. Real brothers. Where could you find Stallion alone without any club members being around? That was easy, too. Stallion fit his ethnic roots and, being single, dined at his favourite restaurant most nights after work.

Lance mulled it over in his brain. Jack had told him they would meet in person soon. Maybe Jack would explain then.

Whiskey Jake and Thumper watched as Damien reviewed the pictures. They were using a computer monitor at the apartment of one of Thumper's girlfriends. She had been sent shopping. Damien zoomed in on the digital imaging of Marcie saying goodbye to Jack on the porch.

Whiskey Jake said, “So what do ya think? I don't know who this little bitch is, but from what we heard, it sounds like she can identify The Suit. Too bad we didn't see the picture that the pig showed her.”

Damien zoomed in on Jack's face and watched quietly for about a minute, then said, “The copper doesn't look too happy. My guess is that he either isn't sure or doesn't know at all.”

“Should we get Wizard over for a look?” asked Whiskey Jake.